Monday, January 02, 2017

Empty Heads of State: In this time of crisis, some European leaders are braver than others

It's been hard to keep track of all the acts of jihadist terror
that have struck Western Europe in 2016, let alone the sundry
smaller-scale atrocities – from gang rapes of children to stabbings of
defenseless old women – that have been committed by Muslim men and boys.
And then, of course, there's the rise in dhimmitude that has
accompanied all these developments – the public events scaled back or
canceled, the churches that have removed crosses, and the other efforts
on every imaginable front to appease the Prophet's followers by
gradually erasing Europe's cultural traditions. From Bradford to
Brussels, from Malmö to Marseilles, fear and anger have soared; in the
face of a pusillanimous political establishment, more and more voters in
a range of countries have been looking elsewhere for true leadership.
As 2016 ended, then, Western Europe's current leaders had a lot to
answer for. And because most of their countries have a tradition of
broadcasting a brief year's-end address by the head of state or
government – which a remarkable number of Western Europeans are in the
habit of watching – those leaders also had a golden opportunity to speak
directly to their people about the events of the past year and about
hopes and concerns for the year to come. So what did they have to say
for themselves?Speaking
on New Year's Eve, Angela Merkel got right down to business, stating at
the outset that at present Germany's #1 challenge is “undoubtedly
Islamic terrorism.” Of all the leaders whose year-end speeches I read or
watched, I'm pretty sure she was the only one who actually used the
words “Islamic terrorism.” Full points for that. Alas, Angela was quick
to proclaim that the way to oppose the terrorists' hate was by turning
the other cheek – and keeping the borders open. Echoing Hillary Clinton,
she affirmed: “We're stronger together.” François Hollande followed
much the same formula, lamenting the year's “terrible attacks” in Nice
and elsewhere but saying that while the terrorists “wanted to divide”
France, the French people had refused to engage in “stigmatization” and
shown that they were (guess what?) “stronger together.” Hollande closed
with a warning: if Marine Le Pen's National Front wins this year's
election, France will “no longer be French.” Hey, look around you, M.
Hollande: thanks to you and your crowd, France is becoming less and less
French every day.
Then there were the European royals, whose
speeches were likely written (or at least vetted) by their respective
governments but who do have some personal leeway in deciding what to
say. These are people whose job it is to serve as living symbols of
their respective nations and of those nations' histories, cultures, and
values. And what did they have to say in this time of deepening anxiety?
Most admirable, perhaps, was Queen Elizabeth, who, speaking
on Christmas Day, actually mentioned Jesus Christ and described herself
unashamedly as a follower of Christ “because Christ's example helps me
see the value of doing small things with great love.” Of course the
Queen is famously tight-lipped – and, in any case, no Prime Minister
would ever let her openly express apprehension about the Religion of
Peace – but she managed to communicate something important, I think,
simply by referencing her personal religious belief and reminding
viewers of her role as Head of the Church.
Other crowned heads were less impressive. In Belgium, King Philippe admitted
that this year's terrorism in Brussels and Zaventem caused some
Belgians to have “doubt about the future”; but he offered what he called
“a message of hope,” pointing out that all over the country, people are
taking care of the elderly, abused, disabled, etc. – actions which
“show that a more cordial society is within our reach.” So there, all
you gloomy Gusses! Also fatuously sanguine was Sweden's Carl XVI Gustaf,
whose once safe and prosperous nation has probably already been
Islamized beyond repair. He began his oration by acknowledging
that these are “times with great challenges.” What “challenges”? Why,
global warming, naturally: “The temperature in the sea and on land
continues to rise.” To be sure, after rattling on at length about water
shortages and “environmentally friendly forestry,” the king finally
mentioned “terrorism, armed conflicts, and insecurity,” which, he noted,
can make people “feel concern about the future.” But, he insisted, “we
can't let fear run our everyday lives.” Mentioning “an ecumenical
worship service” (i.e., Protestant and Catholic) that he attended during
a recent papal visit, he claimed that this experience of religious
unity gave him “hope for the future” – as if comity among Christians had
anything whatsoever to do with the dark reality of Islam. The king
added that some time in 2017, Sweden will acquire its ten millionth
inhabitant, and that individual, whether newborn or immigrant, will be
“a part of our common future.” Maybe. But the question, Your Majesty, is
how much of a future your own democratic constitutional monarchy has.
Let's just say it's not looking good.
Equally lame was King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands, who started his Christmas address
by acknowledging (in a general, unspecific way) Europe's current
horrors: “Extreme seems to be the new normal.” But he then seemed to
draw a moral equivalence between the invading hordes and the fearful
natives: “Searching for security, groups dig into their own certainty.
That often makes an open conversation impossible.” There it was, the
same old European illusion of “open conversation” – dialogue, that
sacred thing – as a cure-all. Like Philippe and Carl Gustav,
Willem-Alexander had something to say to those who, as he put it, “have
doubts about the future.” His message: they're idealizing the past,
indulging in “nostalgia” for a time that was really “less rosy” than we
think. Also, “many issues we are now so worried about, on closer
inspection, are less serious than we sometimes think.” Briefly put:
don't worry, be happy. Hey, king: tell that to Geert Wilders, who has to
live with bodyguards around the clock and whom your own courts just
found guilty for saying the very things you should be saying in
place of all this claptrap. In any event, it's rather galling to see a
guy who lives in a well-guarded palace telling his increasingly unsafe
subjects to calm down. But what can you expect from a guy whose mother,
Beatrix, responded to the jihadist butchering of Theo van Gogh by
rushing to a Moroccan community center to demonstrate her dhimmi
docility?
King Harald of Norway, too, lived down to expectations. Recalling
a schoolgirl who'd written to him that it's “important to maintain old
traditions,” he recounted an interfaith Palace event at which he and his
guests “shared thoughts, cultural expressions, and food from various
religious treasure chests” and thereby “came closer to one another and
understood one another better.” That reference to foreign foods being
kept in “religious treasure chests” perfectly reflects the tendency of
condescending European elites to reduce Islam to exotic cookery and
clothing – to equate kebab with the Koran. And of course we're all used
to seeing those same elites, who may or may not actually understand
anything at all about Islam, use the word “understanding” in the way
Harald did, as a sort of synonym for “socializing.” Harald concluded
with this bromide: “If we wish each other well, a lot of magical things
can happen.” Good luck with that.
(In her own New Year's remarks,
Harald's prime minister, Erna Solberg, maintained that “even though we
live in a time of insecurity, I feel optimism.” Why? She mentioned a
scientist who's doing cutting-edge research on cancer. But this was just
prelude to her protracted, gushing praise for another Norwegian hero –
Aisha Ali Mohammed, a hijab-wearing woman who is none other than Oslo's
first female Somali bus driver: “If you are lucky enough to ride on her
bus, I hope you will give her a warm smile.” Can you say “the soft
bigotry of low expectations”?)
Finally, there was Denmark's
Queen Margrethe, who's smarter and gutsier than her Belgian, Dutch,
Swedish, and Norwegian counterparts put together, and, owing to her
customary forthrightness, perhaps even more praiseworthy than Liz II. Speaking
on New Year's Eve, Margrethe addressed immigration in a more honest
way than any of these leaders, stipulating that refugees who come to
Denmark, “must understand” that they've settled in a country “where not
only the climate is entirely different but where the way of life and the
customs are different, and have a long history and deep roots.”
Newcomers must fit in, and that takes hard work – learning Danish,
acquainting oneself with Danish traditions, holding down a job, raising
one's children well, and, generally speaking, “feeling at home in
Denmark.” Margrethe's insistence on responsible assimilation and the
primacy of Danish values was underscored by her praise for Danish
soldiers who fight terrorism and for all those who labor to “preserve
Danish culture, tradition, and history.” In short, a class act by a
woman who loves her country and its values, who recognizes the threats
thereto, who understands her duty as sovereign, and who in her New
Year's speech managed, within constitutional confines, to speak up for
freedom and patriotism and, implicitly, against sharia and jihad. If
only Western Europe had more royals – and politicians – like her. http://www.frontpagemag.com/fpm/265328/empty-heads-state-bruce-bawer